Page 113 of This Heart Of Mine (Chicago Stars 5)

She stirred in his arms and snuffled her nose against his chest, burrowing like one of her storybook pals. But despite the snuffling, the burrowing, and the bunny panties, Molly had been every inch a woman.

And he was in big trouble. In one afternoon, he’d undone everything he’d been trying to accomplish by ignoring her.

She slid her hand from his chest to his belly. Here and there the last shafts of sunlight glazed her hair with little reddish sprinkles like the ones she’d used on yesterday’s sugar cookies. He forced himself to remember all the reasons he’d tried so hard to keep her at a distance, starting with the fact that she wasn’t going to be part of his life much longer, which could very well piss off her sister, who happened to be the owner of the team he intended to take to the Super Bowl this year.

He couldn’t think about all the ways a team owner had of making it tough, even for her star player, not right now. Instead, he thought about how much passion had been locked up inside the small, quirky body of this woman who was and wasn’t his wife.

She snuffled again. “You’re not a bust-out. As a lover, I mean.”

He was glad she couldn’t see his smile, because giving her even the smallest advantage generally meant he ended up swimming in the lake with his clothes on. He settled for sarcasm. “I sense a tender moment coming on. Should I get a handkerchief?”

“I just mean that—Well, after last time…”

“Don’t tell me.”

“It was all I had for comparison.”

“For the love of—”

“I know it’s not fair. You were asleep. And unwilling. I haven’t forgotten that.”

He tucked her closer and heard himself say, “Maybe it’s time you did.”

Her head shot up, and she looked at him with a million emotions on her face, the main one being hope. “What do you mean?”

He rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean, it’s over. It’s forgotten. And you’re forgiven.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “You mean it, don’t you?”

“I mean it.”

“Oh, Kevin… I—”

He sensed a speech coming on, and he wasn’t in the mood for any more talk, so he started making love to her all over again.

Chapter 19

Yes!

Notes for Chik article,

“Do Jocks Only Want One Thing?”

Molly sat in the gazebo staring out at the cottages and daydreaming about last night instead of getting ready for the community tea she’d invited everyone to attend on the Common that afternoon. She’d driven into town after breakfast to buy

an extra cake along with some soft drinks, but refreshments were the last thing on her mind. She was thinking about Kevin and all the delicious things they’d done.

A car door slammed, distracting her. She looked up to see the paragon he’d been interviewing settle behind the wheel of an aging Crown Victoria. Molly had caught a glimpse of her as she’d arrived for her interview and hated her on sight. Just one look at the no-nonsense reading glasses dangling from a chain around her neck told Molly this woman’s cookies would never burn on the bottom.

Kevin appeared on the front porch. Molly automatically waved to him, then wished she hadn’t because it made her seem too eager. If only she were one of those sublimely mysterious women who could control a man with the flicker of an eyelash or a single smoldering glance. But neither flickering nor smoldering was her strong point, and Kevin wasn’t a man to be controlled anyway.

Roo saw him coming across the Common and scampered to meet him, hoping for a game of catch. Molly’s skin grew hot just watching him. Now she knew exactly what every part of the body underneath his black polo shirt and khaki slacks looked like.

She shivered. She didn’t doubt he’d enjoyed making love with her last night—she’d been pretty darned good, if she did say so herself—but she knew it hadn’t meant the same thing to him that it did to her. He’d been so… everything—tender, rough, thrilling, and more passionate than even her imagination could have invented. This was the most dangerous, the most impossible, the most hopeless crush she’d ever experienced, and last night had made it worse.

Suddenly Kevin stopped walking in midstride. She saw right away what had caught his attention. A nine-year-old boy stood on the edge of the Common holding a football. His name was Cody. His parents had introduced him yesterday when they’d checked in to Green Pastures.

Kevin might not know they finally had younger guests. Between going up in the glider in the afternoon, then locking themselves in the bedroom at the cottage, he wouldn’t have seen the children, and she hadn’t thought to mention it.

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